Holding out for a hero
by Cat 2
Summary: What if it was all a dream...? AU
1. Chapter 1

I own nothing

Author's note: Remember in the early part of series one, where we're not entirely sure Peter isn't mad? Well I got thinking. What if the Heroes world was created by Peter's mind? It would be interesting wouldn't it? Hope you guys like this, nice reviews make me write faster.

Prolgue

Sylar was standing, electricity coursing through his fingers.

"Time to say goodbye." His voice as ever was smooth and rich.

"_Peter_." He shook his head. He couldn't afford distractions. Not now_._

"_Peter. You have to stay with me." _

Sylar raised his right hand, and pointed it at him.

"_You're running a fever. I know it's difficult, but you have to stay conscious."_

He could feel the fire carousing though his fingers. He had to concentrate.

"_He's not responding. We need to get him to hospital"_

The fate of the world hung in the balance.

"_...never seen it this bad."_

The world faded to black.

* * *

"Thanks." Miriam Benn Isaac gratefully reached up, taking the cup from Mohinder. She sipped gratefully as the Indian sank on to the chair next her.

"How is he?"

"Stable for the moment." He paused uncertain of how to phrase the next part. "Do you know what brought this on?"  
Miriam got to her feet.

"No." She lied, gazing through the hospital crisscross windows at the figure lying motionless there, tubes and wires leading off, his hair plastered to his forehead with sweat.

"Miriam!"

Miriam kept her eyes upon Peter's motionless form, while her hand stroked the scars that littered her left side.

"Heidi came today."

Mohinder blinked.

"I thought the courts labeled her an unfit mother."

Miriam shrugged, keeping her back to him.

"They changed their mind."

"And Nathan left you to deal with her?" Mohinder could hardly keep his surprise at the insensitivity out of his voice.

Miriam shrugged.

"Angela's in France. He's in Washington and Tracy somewhere wining and dining the great and the good."

She shook her head.

"It's my fault. I shouldn't let her get to me."

"The woman nearly killed you!"

"So did nearly half the population of Afghanistan." Miriam said, "But they don't get to me this much."

She grabbed her phone.

"I've left messages for Nathan and Tracy. I'd best check my messages."

Mohinder spoke briefly with a nurse to check that a sufficient amount of saline was been fed into Peter's vein and to check his electrolyte balance.

Both were off, but no more than was normal when Peter's fever was at this level.

He was checking the heart monitor readings, when Miriam reentered, her face grim.

"The FBI are after me." She said.

* * *

Checking his messages gave Nathan 100 reasons to skip the fundraising dinner, and about a million reasons to consider firing his PA.

"Which hospital is he at?"

Nathan Grit his teeth and pulled at his tie, his mind running over the options. Miriam's message had been short and to the point.

"Beth Israel, I think." He replied, leaving a message with the desk of the Parisian hotel where his mother was staying.

"Not as good as the Lincoln, but we can work with it."

"We're not," Nathan said, pushing the redial button. "Working. With this."

Natasha blinked.

"With all due respect, part of your lead in the poll comes from your image as a single father and a family man."

"She's not answering. Must still be in the hospital."

Nathan hit the button, getting Tracy's voicemail again. It felt like on the women in his life, were ignoring him. With one exception.

"Truman has a one percent lead on you in the polls. If we want to win this, we have to push the family angle."

Nathan attempted to blot her out, watching the traffic pass by. He hit the recall button.

* * *

"Get a crash cart on standby!"

Mohinder's finger's searched clumsily for a pulse at the neck. Peter's breath came in desperate rasps.

The pulse was strong, but far too rapid.

"Come on, Peter, it's O.K., but you have to relax."

Peter's body arched against her fingers, as she tried to restrain him.

"Ventilator Now!"

His lungs arched. Breathing was agony.

His chest felt like it would explode.

Then a cool hand ran across his forehead.

"Breathe Peter. Breathe."

Nathan was here. It would be alright. He closed his eyes and let the darkness take him.

"Belay that." Miriam straightened up, shoving her hair out of her face. She turned her attention to Nathan.  
"Where the heck have you been?"

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

I own nothing. Nice reviews make me write quicker.

Chapter 2

At points Nathan was convinced that Miriam and Mohinder had chosen the Beth Israel, not for its proximity to their home or its excellent medical care, but for the fact that its canteen food was vaguely edible.

Over the years since Peter's diagnosis, he had become an expert on canteen food.

Sitting here, with a cup of black coffee cooling in front of him, he could still remember the first time this had happened.

Peter had blacked out on top of 15 storey building. Thankfully a fire escape had broken his fall.

Nathan could still hear Peter's explanation of what had happened.

"You flew up and you caught me."

Tracy had once said that it summed up their relationship. Nathan needed Peter to fly. Peter needed Nathan to keep him grounded.

They had tried doctors, accredited doctors, crazy quacks, every sort they could think of.

Their opinion had been clear. Major depressive disorder.

And they had believed them. That was what hurt the most. Ignored Peter's protests that he wasn't depressed, and let them lock him away.

He remembered reading a quote about the old mental hospital at Bedlam. That if they weren't mad when they entered, they became it rapidly.

The next two years had convinced him that the system hadn't changed that much.

Peter would have still been there, if a chance meeting at a conference. Nathan had wandered into the wrong room, by accident, a room where Mohinder Suresh was explaining his father's research on the Shanti virus.  
Tracy, not yet his lover, though his marriage to Heidi was already on the rocks, had convinced him to talk to him.

The relief that the conversation had brought, both to him and to Peter, was still felt unreal.

It hadn't changed the reality of the situation, but it had made things slightly easier. Then Miriam had arrived, making things much easier.

"Hey." Speak of the devil. Miriam stood a hot bagel in hand, looking down at him.

"Tracy still not picking up?"

Nathan shrugged, slipping the cell phone away.

"I've left a voicemail."

Miriam nodded.

"She'll call." She said, gently. "She loves you."

Nathan nodded. He then raised his head, noticing for the first time the cup of Tea on her tray.

"What's the matter?" he asked.

"Nothing!" Miriam lied automatically. Nathan raised an eyebrow.

Miriam sighed.

"I need a favor."

* * *

"Shanti's virus isn't normally dangerous in itself." Mohinder stood, watching Nurse Eden bathe Peter's forehead. "About 50% of the population probably carries the virus at any one time. The problem only arises when there is genetic link."

"So," Eden said, gently moistening the cloth again. "That's when the hallucinations arise."

"Among other symptoms." Mohinder began to pace across the floor. "Hallucinations are the primary symptom, but there are many others. The virus interferes with the brain chemistry, thus a number of problems can arise. Idiomatic fevers, blackouts, even complete temporary paralysis. Peter's case presents a special problem."

"The breathing difficulties." Eden said, glancing at the oxygen monitoring machine.

Mohinder Nodded.

"Peter apparently contracted pneumonia as a child. It left his lungs damaged. The attacks, if they're not treated quickly enough can lead to respiratory arrest." He took a glance at the chart.

For all the pain and struggle the attack had caused, it seemed to be passing quickly. He nodded satisfied to himself and went off to find Nathan.

* * *

The world was burning white.

It was too bright.

It hurt him. Made his eyes sting.

His lungs ached.

He couldn't keep his balance. He was falling...

"Whoa, whoa. Easy, buddy" Nathan's hand grabbed Peter's shoulder holding him still. His breath came in gasps.

"What happened?" he asked, lifting a hand to shield his face from the fierce hospital lights.

"You don't remember?" the question was automatic; he knew that retrograde amnesia on both side of the attacks was normal.

He remembered. He'd been fighting Sylar, fire against ice, burning. Rising up into the atmosphere...no. that wasn't right.

He'd been in the kitchen. Miriam. She'd been there too. Making...Pizza. Heidi had dropped the boys off. She'd been mean to Miriam as usual. He'd been trying to make her feel better. They'd been talking about...

He couldn't remember. Nor could he remember which one was true.

"No." He sighed.

Nathan sighed.

"You're in the hospital." He said, gently. "You collapsed with a fever."

Mohinder moved into view. He began his examination. Peter shoved him away.

Nathan smiled, dryly.

"I'd say there's nothing much wrong with him."

Mohinder ignored him, completing his examination.

"The attack seems to have passed," he said, putting his penlight away. "But I'd like you to remain in for..."  
"No!" the yell was fierce and automatic, causing Mohinder and Nathan to look at him with concern. Nathan didn't know what had happen in the 2 years Peter had remained in hospital, but he recognised that it had left an abiding hatred of them in his former nurse brother.

Nathan leant over and put his hand on Peter's shoulder.

"It might help." He began, but stopped at Peter's shaking body. Miriam who had wandered took the situation in at a glance.

"Mohinder. You just need Peter's blood to run these test. Right?" Mohinder nodded.

"I would also like to run a CAT scan."

Miriam nodded.

"That can be done tomorrow, before we check out. You can take the blood and run tests later. If there's any problems, we come straight back in here. Deal?"

Mohinder nodded.

"There. That wasn't so difficult." She said, with a smile that Peter recognised as a forced smile. He made a mental note to tackle her about it later.

* * *

Nathan let himself in as quietly as possible.

He checked the answering machine automatically, irrationally annoyed by the lack of response from his mother.

He sighed, heading for the kitchen, not trusting himself to go into his study. It was times like this that he really needed a drink.

"Dad?"  
Claire was sitting at the table. She must have fallen asleep over her books.

"You should be in bed." He said, firmly.

"And you shouldn't?" she demanded before asking. "How's Uncle Peter?"

Nathan sighed. A part of him wanted to protect her, but he was well aware that Claire carried the necessary genetics for the virus to pose a risk. The more she knew about it, the better.

"He's regained consciousness, they just want to keep him overnight for observation."  
"Bet he loved that." Claire said smiling.

Nathan didn't feel he could respond to this.

"What are you reading?" he asked, wandering over to the table and lifting up the book. "Marine life?"  
"Zach and I are doing a project on manatees" she indicated the picture. "They're really beautiful. Sailors used to mistake them for mermaids."

"Really?" Nathan examined the picture, but he could see nothing there to suggest a woman. "Well, I think they'll wait for tonight."

He shut the book.

"But Dad..." Claire began, but Nathan held up his hand.

"Come on." He said calmly, glancing out at the silent answering machine. "It's time for bed for both of us."

* * *

Mohinder had left his home and mobile number at the hospital, with strict instructions to page him if Peter's condition changed.

Miriam had pointed out that she had both of those, and was planning to stay the night anyway. He had ignored her.

Letting himself in, he did a quick tour of the flat.

The remains of pizza boxes in the trash confirmed his suspicions that both Molly and Matt had ignored his note on the fridge, and indeed he found that in the trash also.

He checked into Molly's room and was relieved to see her sleeping peacefully, and with a normal temperature.

If he was completely honest with himself, Molly was the reason he worked so hard with Peter. Molly like Peter suffered from the genetic defect that made Shanti's virus dangerous, and like Peter she was infected.

Mohinder believed that if he could help Peter, maybe he could make life easier for Molly.

Sighing, he made his way to the couch. Matt was working the graveyard shift and didn't need him wake him up by coming on this late.

He glanced around for the blanket and pillow he left in the living room for just this situation, and was surprised to notice that they were gone. A note however lay on the coffee table.  
_"Mohinder. The pillow and blanket are in the bedroom. Where you should be. Matt."_

He couldn't help himself. In spite of complete and utter exhaustion, he smiled.

_

* * *

_

"So..." Peter said, as Miriam lowered the pillows. "You going to tell me what you and Nathan were talking about while I was out?"

Miriam snorted.

"I could tell you that it was none of your business."

"It involves Nathan. It is."

Miriam sighed.  
"That obvious huh?"  
"If you know both of you, yeah."

He leant back, trying to relax against the pillows despite his aching muscles. Miriam noticed.

"I can get something to kill it for a bit if you want."

Peter shook his head.

"No and don't try to change the subject."

Miriam sighed.

"The FBI were in contact me." She looked at him. "You remember Isaac?"

Isaac Mendez. A heroin addicted artist with precognitive abilities...No. that was just in the hallucinations.

The facts were partly right. Isaac Mendez was a comic artist and he had had a problem with Heroin in the past. At the time of death, he'd been clean for nearly a year. He was Miriam's cousin and her only relative still in America. He'd died nearly a year ago.

"Yeah."

She sighed. "They want to talk about him."

Peter tried to remember the details of Isaac death, but his head ached too much.

She shook her head.

"We can discuss this later."

Peter knew that this meant things were badly wrong. Miriam had a long principle of not putting things off, especially when he knew that they wouldn't get much sleep.

He lay back, and tried to relax against the pain. Despite that he could have sworn that he could hear Miriam crying softly.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

I own nothing. Nice reviews make me update quicker.

Chapter 3

Peter's attempts to convince everyone, including himself that he could walk out of the hospital on his own, were somewhat spoiled when he tripped over his own feet and nearly fell into one of the nurses.

Fortunately Nurse George was experienced at handling Peter, and saw the funny side of it.

Miriam sighed, tiredly. She understood that this was Peter's attempt to reinsert control over his life, to retain his independence, and most of the time she supported this.

However, both before and after an idiomatic fever, Peter's coordination was shot to pieces. Indeed it was one of the few symptoms that gave any warning.

So despite her frustration, she reassured the medical staff that this was perfectly normal, and that Peter was fine. She didn't think they believed her, as she was pretty certain she saw two orderlies and three doctors following them.

The seatbelt, as usual, presented difficulties. Medication for Shanti's virus had the effect of rendering complex movements hard, and the co ordination difficulties from the fever meant that the seatbelt presented a battle, one Peter was determined not to lose. The similarities between the two brothers were never more evident than at that moment, so Miriam had to fight the desire to laugh.

Miriam shut the door, and started the car. Peter lay back against the seat.

"You can fall asleep, you know?" Miriam said, watching the road as they passed out of the hospital. "I won't be offended."

"I'm not tired." The worlds come out in a rush, and are obliviously a lie. Miriam managed to keep her eyes on the road, while she snorted.

"You didn't sleep a wink last night. And don't waste your energy lying to me."

Peter turned his face away from her, as he said, slowly.

"I had that dream again."  
"The exploding man?" Miriam asked, though she already knew the answer. And if she was honest, she was annoyed. The therapy was supposed to be helping with the nightmares, but all Miriam had seen it doing was making it worse.

Peter's eyes stayed on the road, but his head moved slightly up and down. Miriam paused. Before working with the Petrelli's, she'd been in the army and worked with combat fatigue cases. The symptoms were not dissimilar to Shanti's virus, and normally she used the same treatment.

Gently, as though to a child, she said,

"Get some sleep huh? You can hop in the back if you think you'd be more comfortable."

The only answer was a small snore.

* * *

Nathan had a tattoo. This had been something of a surprise to Tracy the first time she'd seen it.

Nathan didn't seem the sort of guy to get tattoos, and when she'd asked about it, he'd refused to discuss it.

Eventually he'd told her that he got it when he was out in Bonzia, and she had felt obliged to leave it at that. Nathan never discussed his military service with anyone.

She had no idea why these thoughts were going through her head as she sat on the airport lounge. Possibly it was to avoid thinking about the messages left on her phone. One from Nicki and two from Nathan.

Neither were exactly areas she wanted to think about.

She hit the number for the Petrelli's.

"Hello?"  
Miriam voice, with a hint of a British accent came through the line.

"Hello Miriam." She said.

"Tracy." It sounded like she's been crying.

"Is everything O.K.?"

"Yeah." Miriam said. "I've just been cutting onions." She breathed in. "what's up?"

"I'm trying to get hold of Nathan. He's not picking up."

"he's meeting Hiro Nakamura. Won't be back till late."

"Oh." Tracy said. She really needed to talk to him. "How's Peter?"

The question was polite and automatic, so Miriam answered it as such.

"He's fine. He's sleeping at the moment."

Tracy nodded.

"If you hear from Nathan, let him know I'll be home tonight."

"O.k." Miriam hung up. Tracy sighed and glanced at the clock. Only 4 hours to go.

* * *

_The smell of smoke was what woke him. The heat from the flames wouldn't come till later._

_He tried to get to his feet, but his legs wouldn't obey him. His lungs were screaming at him. He had to get out of here._

"Easy, Peter, easy. It's alright. It's O.K." he opened his eyes to see Miriam peering down at him. The phone was in her hand and could just make out Mohinder's number all but the last three digits.

"I'm alright." He muttered, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "It was a just a nightmare. Not a hallucination."

She didn't believe him, but she didn't try and stop him as he pulled himself into a sitting position.

"What time is it?"

Miriam glanced at her watch.

"Nearly five." She shrugged. "I was about to wake you up, I need to pick up the boys and Claire, and frankly I don't think I can face Victoria on my own."

If he was honest, Peter wasn't sure he could either. Still he grinned up at her.

"Give me a minute to shower."

* * *

The alarm on her phone went off. Claire grabbed for her bag.

"Can you get me a glass of water?" she asked. Zach put down his camera, got up off the bed and headed for the door. He returned a few seconds later with a glass of water.

"This for your medication?"

"It's not medication." Claire said, defensively. At the look on Zach's face, she relented. "Not in the true sense. It boasts my immune system. To give me a chance against Shanti's virus."

She swallowed the small white tablet, as Zach's mother's voice came up the Stairs.

"Claire, you're rides here."

* * *

When they got back from the Plats, where the boys had had a play date, there were two messages on the machine.

One was from Nathan, letting Miriam know that he'd arranged to speak to the FBI tomorrow at ten. The second was more mysterious.

"I know who you are."

TBC


End file.
